


Why do you only call me when you're high?

by Taylexander_Hamilton



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Angst, Gay, Jamilton - Freeform, M/M, fluff later?, idfk
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-04
Updated: 2017-08-24
Packaged: 2018-10-28 04:43:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 3,945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10823997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Taylexander_Hamilton/pseuds/Taylexander_Hamilton
Summary: Jamilton? Have no idea where this is going? Thomas is sad?I'll try to update this once a week or sooner.





	1. So?

**Author's Note:**

> this will be my first public fic so it probably won't be perfect, i'm sorry, i welcome all comments!

“Why the hell are you even here again, Jefferson?” An enraged Alexander Hamilton yelled at the man kneeling on his floor.

“But-” Thomas was cut off abruptly by a wave of Alex’s hand.

“That text meant nothing! You, of all people, should know that!” he screamed, voice cracking as tears formed in his eyes.

Jefferson stared up at him. He could smell the marijuana lingering in the air of a joint recently put out. The man who had texted him at nearly three in the morning had texted him in a state where rational thinking was not possible. The text truly had meant nothing. Nothing but a greed driven by a sadness not to be overcome easily.

Thomas gulped down the lump in his throat and stood, looking down at Alexander who straightened at the challenge of intimidation. Gaze hard, he spat on the unclean laminate floor before slamming the door shut behind him, leaving the vulnerable Treasury Secretary alone. Probably not the best idea, the taller man realised upon the sound on the lock clicking into place. Yet it was too late now.

Hands wrapped around shivering arms as Thomas walked out the doors to the apartment building, an action that was regrettable no matter how many times it occurred. The cool autumn wind nipped at his exposed face and arms, buffeting his hair. Jefferson hated being outside in this weather.

He waved his hand to flag down an oncoming taxi who ignored him promptly, already housing a passenger. Great. Now, he had to walk. Or go back to Alex, he thought, looking back and up at the looming building. The familiar apartment was visible from his place on the sidewalk like a beckon of everything he knew.

It could no longer be represented as so, though. Sure, he had spent many restless nights in that room with the scent of sex filling the air around the two men, too immersed in euphoria to notice the powerful aroma. Rivals through day, lovers when the sun dipped below the horizon. It wasn’t balance, only the sheer need to have somebody.

The first night. That was the only night Thomas had found a true sense of making love rather than just a terrible pleasure to take away some stress. He had never known what to make of their first encounter in the bedroom other than it was wrong. There was something wrong. Maybe it was the part where they were political rivals, destined to forever disagree?

The walk back to his own home was cold and unforgiving, the chill nipping at his dark skin. Thomas hated it. The tiny drops of rain hitting him like bullets, alone with his own fucked up thoughts. What if Alexander hadn't been high? What if he wasn't a democrat while himself a republican?

It didn't matter now. It could never matter again.

The door to Thomas's home swung open with a squeak as he unlocked it and turned the doorknob. It was empty and dark as expected. He sighed in the complete darkness once the door was shut, the sound echoing around the overly large house.  _I can never go back to that damn apartment,_ the man thought to himself as he put the keys on the side table. 

The television flickered to life at the click of a button as Thomas sat himself down on the couch across from the stand. It had to be one of his favourite possessions, spending so many hours there, either watching tv or messing around on his laptop. Yet, a smile could not light up his face upon the realisation that his favourite show,  _Friends,_ was playing. Soon enough, sleep had claimed him like the beast it was once the timer on the electronic announced its automatic shut off.


	2. Oh, Alex, you good there frendo?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> alex hurts

Alexander stared at the door for a moment before sliding the lock into place. He knew he couldn’t think rationally. He knew it was a terrible idea to even think about inviting Thomas over while in this state. But he couldn’t help it. Every night, Alex had called the Secretary of State back; nothing could have warmed his heart more than the thought of a repeat of that first night. 

It never came. The sweet lust that had overcome the two lovers had been swept away by the second night to nothing but the same reckless greed that drove the men to even consider another night.

“Fuck!” The curse left Hamilton’s lips before he could even think it, anger driving him to yell words of the sort. He uttered more, like “shit”, before throwing his skinny fist into the wall. Pain shot through his entire left arm when he pulled his hand away from the dent he had made. Blood welled up around his knuckles that rapidly started turning a different colour from his paling skin.

Nothing could stop the fury that filled his entire being.

Alexander kept punching the wall leaving cavity after cavity, blood splatter after splatter on the mint green wall. Finally, he collapsed in front of the mess he had created, shaking. His knuckles were coated in his own blood but that wasn’t even the thing that bothered the Treasury Secretary most. 

A glance over at his phone told him that a text had been received. It was on the floor from when he had dropped it earlier. The beaten man crawled over to the now cracked phone and checked the notification that shone before him. “Maria?” he whispered into the gloom once the sender was read.

[Hey Sugar, wanna hang out?] The text read.

She, the woman who had caused his marriage to fall apart, texted him at this hour to “hang out”?! When he had already asked Thomas Fucking Jefferson for the same request?!

Instead of ignoring the message or responding peacefully, Alexander decided to dial her number in his irrational state of mind. “Hello?” Maria answered with a honey-like innocence that shouldn’t exist in her voice but had driven him to this point.

“It’s Alexander, what’s up?” He asked, hoping the pot wasn’t obvious in his voice.

“I’m just lonely,” was the response. If she knew, the past mistress showed no sign of it. 

So badly did Alex just want to be nulled with her silky voice, warm kisses… “Oh.” How else was he supposed to respond? Ask her to meet him at his apartment or say he’d be at hers in five minutes?

Maria must’ve heard the wavering in his voice. “I divorced James, you know.” She stated the fact like Alex had no idea when Burr had told him all about the case. “I know you’ve been down since Eliza left you…” Her voice trailed off as she knew she’d hit a weak chink in his rusted armour. 

How did she know? They hadn’t seen each other since the affair! The telltale sound of nervousness echoed around the room in the form of a gulp. Maria seemed to chuckle at that. The emotion was like a fog that caused his hands to become clammy. If Alex agreed to such a proposition again, Thomas would be sure to find out. Again. But why did it matter if that fucker found out? It didn’t! 

“I’ll get back to you on that,” he muttered at last. The line went dead as Maria disconnected the call. 

Defeated, Alex wandered into his bedroom, ignoring the flaring pain that had reignited in his hands. He’d tend to that later, when it actually mattered. Not even bothering to pull back the covers, he plopped himself on the bed and fell asleep almost instantly. Not before he could be reminded of the nights with Thomas though; the scent of their experiences still giving an unwanted aroma to the musty air.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *is only longer by 30 words* huhuhu
> 
> Thanks for the support so far!


	3. Thomas sleeps in

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> thomasssssssss

Thomas awoke to an unforgiving migraine. Sunlight shone through the half open curtains that cast a glare about the room. That demonic ball of hellish fire in space. He realised that he had fallen asleep on the couch in front of the TV. “Fuck,” he breathed from both physical and emotional pain that threatened to overwhelm him and ground him to the comfortable piece of furniture. Memories of the night before flooded his mind when he sat up with an aggravated groan, feet landing weightily on the plush carpet.

“So, to sum it all up,” Jefferson whispered to himself, “Alexander fucked shit up for not the first time in his life.” The statement seemed to give a sense of certainty and grounded the man. He had called me again but was high this time and it wasn't the good time of high either. I had left and who knows what he did once the door was closed, he thought the rest rather than voicing this aloud. Now, he could deal with the physical pain.

He stood, swaying, but managed to stagger to the medicine available in his kitchen and dry swallowed a couple Tylenol tablets that had been found in a commonly opened cabinet. Though, it could not stop the torrent of thoughts. What did Alex do? Is he alright? Where was he now? 

Surprisingly, his phone was still secure in his jean pocket. The sound it made when plopped on the counter wasn’t quite loud enough to be satisfying yet the owner emitted an exasperated grunt as the crack that wormed its way out from the top right corner. Thomas pushed the small button to see the time. 9:32 am. Perfect. He was late for work. Very late. Instead of calling in to tell Washington or Madison that he’d be tardy, he let the matter be. An emergency sick day. That was his reasoning. Normally, the Virginian would call in but couldn’t bring himself to do it, for the time being. Not when the events of the night before still haunted every nerve.

Thomas left his phone on the counter and sat back down on his couch, trying to ignore the throbbing pain that was still very much existent in his head. Only more thoughts could distract him. Had Hamilton gone to work? Or stayed home, too numb to do one of the things he loved most? No, he had to have gone to work, that’s what Alex does. He’ll throw up in the trashcan beside his desk and hide it, if he had the chance. Thomas froze. Why was he even thinking about him and his well-being?! Sure, the immigrant had never been perfect at keeping himself healthy and had always needed to rely on someone to remind him to eat or other simple human needs, whether he decided to admit it or not. Eliza had done that for him. The woman who had loved him so dearly. Now, with Philip taking to the scholarly life, he was alone.

Stop! Stop worrying about the obnoxious little prick! His own voice screamed inside Thomas’s head, only aggravating the pain further. “Shut up!” He wailed aloud, clutching his head in his hands with his elbows resting heavily on his knees. Great, now I’m talking to myself, he thought dejectedly, swinging his legs up on the cushions so he was lying down once again.

Again, thoughts of Alex started finding their way into his troubled mind. Resisting the urge to scream at them for a second time that morning, he grabbed the remote from its place on the side table. The television flashed to reveal Netflix’s home screen already loaded up from the night before. Convenient, Thomas thought with a light smile in contentment which only last a couple moments.  _ Friends _ was selected again, as if that was surprising.

And so, he continued to skip the rest of the day, only getting up to go to the washroom or grab a bag of chips or other food of the sort. The Secretary of State was completely unaware of the happenings he was missing at work.


	4. ew work

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> washington appears because he can

Alex awoke to a similar pain Thomas had experienced but, much to his dismay, a harsh beeping of the alarm he had set on his phone as well. With a groan, he turned off the alarm and rolled back onto his back, loosening his tongue from the lack of movement and wiping the drool at the corner of his mouth. His phone had read 5:55am. It had been one of his later alarms. “Shit!” He hissed, jumping out of bed and grabbing an outfit from his disorganized closet with haste. It was a simple work suit with a dark shade of green that decorated the entire jacket and pants. The button-up was a nice mint green accompanied by a tie that matched the darker colour. He kept his dark hair wavy, falling around his shoulders not at all neatly.

  
Out the door in five minutes, Alex managed to catch the bus, arriving at the stop simultaneously. Thank god. He wasn’t walking today, not like this. He slumped down in the seat closest to the rear door of the public transit and whipped out his phone, smashing in the password with his calloused fingers. His head spun with fatigue and the aftermath of the drug. The Treasury Secretary had no idea how he’d get through work today. He always had though, no matter his condition. Everyone at the Hill knew this about him.

  
I wonder if Jefferson is going to be there, Alex thought idly, opening up a random game on his phone to try and entertain his small attention span. If his rival was there today, how was he going to match up any of his arguments in this state? Coffee. Lots and lots of coffee. The idea made sense. Perfect sense. It seemed flawless. A smug smile lit up his face at the not-well-thought out plan.

  
Soon, the bus slowed to a stop at a simple yellow and blue sign. His stop. Alex thanked the driver before hopping off the ledge at the readoor onto the pavement. The sun was just rising. Perfect time to get coffee. He walked briskly to the nearby Starbucks, ordering three black expressos. The cashier gave him a look of concern but filled the order without hesitation, calling his name to express that his drinks were ready. Alex thanked her nicely, taking a tray that held the five cups somewhat securely.

  
Breathing heavily, he quickly walked the block to the Treasury Building and found his office with years of experience working there. He hadn’t heard a single sneer from Jefferson. I guess he isn’t here today, Alexander thought with a grunt of smug satisfaction. Downing the first steaming hot drink and probably burning his mouth, the desktop was powered on, flickering to life while taking a little longer than he would’ve prefered. Oh well.

  
Fingers flew across the keyboard, entering in his twenty digit passcode with unmatched precision. Hamilton looked over the open documents that still needed eiting, more paragraphs or other edits. Within fifteen minutes, all five paper cups were in the recycling. The man was shaky but had enough energy to do his job. Thank god, Thomas wasn’t here. The thought repeated in his head but with ‘Thomas’ instead of ‘Jefferson’. The thought wasn’t as striking as some would be led to believe but the fact remains the same.

  
Hours later, his assistant burst through the door. “How many times have I told you to-” his scolding was cut short as the man behind the assistant followed through the doorway. Alexander immediately turned his attention on the president as his assistant gave a quick nod before shutting the door, leaving the two alone. “Sir,” the bisexual greeted politely.

  
“Son,” George muttered in return much to the man in question’s disdain though the annoying pet name was dismissed at the voice. Thoughts swirled in Hamilton’s mind at his slightly chilled tone that was usually much warmer when greeting. “Jefferson is not present today and has not given notice or reason to his absence. I have also come to understand that you two have had some ‘nightly meetups’?” He continued, allowing a stone to settle in Alex’s stomach. How had he found out? Who else knew? “Of course this is none of my concern but do you have any idea as to why Thomas has not shown up?”

  
There was a pause of hesitation like a blanket settling over the room.

  
“I have no idea,” the younger replied at last. It wasn’t a lie; he didn’t know what had happened once Thomas had left. No, it’s not Thomas! It’s Jefferson! The thoughts must’ve crossed his face because Washington didn’t look impressed.

  
“You don’t need to lie to me, Hamilton.” There was enough force in his voice that any other person would cringe and confess whatever there was to tell. Except Jefferson, of course.  
“I’m not lying! I have no idea what happened to him once he left my apartment last night!” Alex yelled, blowing his temper. Definitely not the smartest idea.

  
George raised an eyebrow with a look of pure disapproval. “Go home Alexander.”

  
“Sir-”

  
“That’s an order.”

  
Alex sat there, clearly boiling over the edge but saved his stuff and shut off the computer. “Fine,” he muttered mutinously, packing up his stuff and standing. Washington nodded and watched as he left, making sure he did.


	5. rip Thomas 2k17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> smut almost happens?

Thomas hadn’t moved except to go to the washroom or find some more carbs. He was a wreck. His hair was in all different directions with grease causing it to stay. His t-shirt was stained with more grease stains. Pants didn’t seem to be a priority for the time being as he wore nothing but the shirt and a pair of dark grey boxers. It wasn’t as though he was dressing up for anyone so why bother?

Popping a couple more piece of popcorn in his mouth, the tv shut off along with the lamp beside him. Fuck. There was a power outage for the third time this month.

Thomas waited a few moments but the electricity did not return. So, his generator wasn’t working either. Goddamn it. 

With a heavy groan, the man stood, swaying slightly at the head rush. Cursing, he stumbled over to the oak cabinet and fumbled around in the darkness. A shiver coursed its way through him as his long, elegant fingers grasped the metal torch. Flicking the switch, he swung the light around and made his way back to the imprinted couch, sitting down exactly as he had been before. Chips crunched underneath him as Thomas’s muscular form was lowered onto them. But he didn’t mind. He didn’t care.

Wallowing in self pity, in the dark, while he waited for the power to return, a knock at the door jolted him back to reality at once. “Fuck off!” He growled loudly, not wanting to deal with anyone’s shenanigans at the moment.

The doorknob clicked as it was unlocked and who but Alexander Hamilton burst in. “Where the fuck were you?!” The Treasury Secretary all but screamed at the lone man.

“Well, that’s a greeting, nice to see you, too. Now, to answer your question, I have been here all day.” He waved to the space around him to emphasize his point. “Now, will you please fuck off and get out of my house?” The threat held as much venom as a cobra’s bite, a gaze like daggers appearing as though they were trying to pierce Alex’s very soul. Even through the near pitch darkness as the flashlight had been turned off, his dark eyes still glinted in the faint light the open doorway cast.

At this, Alex seemed to just grow more furious as if Thomas had broken into his own shitty apartment. “Well, no shit!” He didn’t speak a word more as a light blush covered his cheeks at the sight of Thomas without pants which he easily presented in his relaxed position. 

The Secretary of State sensed his hesitation and raised an eyebrow. “Yes?” He asked mockingly, enjoying the position of power over the shorter man.

Alexander only blushed harder at the taunt. “ F-fuck off!” He stammered weakly, turning away slightly and attempting to cover his face with his hair.

This was it. This was how it started. Just like the first night all those months ago. No one said no. So badly did Thomas just want to pull Alexander into an embrace, forget about their differences and the argument of the night before like nothing had happened. Then everything would be fine. He would show up to work tomorrow with a smile on his face and a spring in his step, being political rivals once again and engage in stimulating intellectual debates unlike any other, just like normal.

Yet, when Alexander began to approach him after shutting the door, Thomas didn’t get up and back away, didn’t say no. Any remains of their quarrel were forgotten as Alex pressed his lips against Thomas’s. Instantly, he kissed back when the smaller hand was travelling across his side at an alarming pace. The hem of his shirt was gripped and quickly pulled upward, revealing his muscular chest.

Still, Thomas didn’t say no. In fact, the kiss became more passionate before Alexander pulled away only to strip off Thomas’s shirt completely and throwing it to the floor with haste. Before the taller could push the shorter away or speak, soft lips were pressed back against his full ones with just as much passion as before, if not more. Dark brown eyes closed as he was wrapped up in the moment, unable to break free of it’s or Alex’s tightening grasp on him.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i don't know whether to write the actual smut or not???? help????


	6. Thomas loses it and Alex is scared

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We prepare for the smut

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEY I FINALLY GOT TO UPDATING THIS, EXPECT ANOTHER LATER TODAY. THIS WAS JUST A FILLER CHAPTER BTW BECAUSE I HAVE PLANS

Alexander had saw the way Thomas had sprawled out before him. He had his chance and he took it by locking them in a passionate kiss. Once the shirt was gone, he was left to roam the toned chest with calloused fingers. They fell into every dip like they always had but Thomas was definitely still far too tense. 

Alex forced his tongue through the weakened seam that was his lips with ease. There was no time for exploration tonight, his tongue going as far back as it could reach. This made the taller man crumble beneath him while a quiet moan was elicited from his throat. He got him. Thomas whined like the needy bitch he was when Alex pulled away only to slip off his own shirt and to work on the pants restaining the growing bulge beneath the layers of fabric. 

Soon, they were both left in nothing but their boxers without any held given. It seemed both dicks were on display for all to see in the dim light though it wasn't that. As many other male animals do in the wild, this was a competition for dominance. Alex had often found himself pounding the needy Thomas Jefferson into whatever mattress, desk, or couch they had decided to fuck on. 

Today, however, would not be the same as it had gone so many times before. Alex could feel it in the way Thomas slid his legs off the couch and lifted the shorter of the duo into the air, bridal style. In an angry dance, Alexander struggled in the firm grip that held him close. He was supposed to be the one on top. But when he was hit with the glare Thomas silently sent down at him, he was forced into submission.

Thomas was angry, no doubt. That meant he was going to use every ounce of strength he had over Alex to make sure that the immigrant understood. It was a painful realization to say the least; knowing that he would have the reins of control snatched away in such a swift motion, they would sear rope burns into his hands.


End file.
